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[Percival Falconius]

Title: On Your Sleeve
Chapter 6
Cast: Callista Sapphire and Percival Falconius
Plot: Percival, in an attempt to be acclimated to life with the Human League, is allowed out under the supervision of Callista Sapphire.
Mood: Curious, pleasant even, given the circumstances.

~*~

Falconius had done the unthinkable. To stay alive he had betrayed the Rebellion. It wasn't something he had been proud of, but his mind had been swayed. After taking a severe beating from those he had sworn to protect Percival was not in a stable state of mind for making decisions of life or death. So. Percival did what he did and found himself on the other side of the fate that had befallen his comrades. He stayed alive.

What was left after the Human League no longer needed him for information? There wasn't much left for him but a one way ticket to being acclimated with the customs and lifestyle that was Human League. He was turned over to Callista, who, he had become friendly with, well at least he wasn't calling her 'you' or 'jerk' anymore. Small Steps.

Once released from holding he was given a small one bedroom apartment near the barracks and was set to a schedule. Valentin Samick had followed through on the promise he made to Callista Sapphire. He hadn't hurt the Captain, at least to her knowledge. Every other man he was captured with was killed in the name of the war, but Percival Falconius had been spared. So. He was granted his amnesty.

As part of his rehabilitation and acclimation, Falconius had gone on outings with Callista Sapphire. She was still the face of the League, and she still had a very busy schedule. Running late in that busy schedule was unacceptable. Unfortunately that's just what happened. Perry, as he was called casually, had taken too much time in his morning exercises and lost track of where he needed to be and when. Instead of calling Callista and telling her that he wouldn't be able to make the premier he stuck to getting ready as quickly as possible.

The suit he had was the one he was given the day he arrived to the planet. The first time he met with Samick he was at a fancy dinner, and in order to be seen as inviting the league had provided Falconius with attire. This was the suit he wore this day. Slinging that tie around his neck he looked himself over in the mirror and determined that he didn't have to shave, the shadow wasn't that bad...at least not to him. With only minutes to spare Falconius burst from the apartment building and headed for the car that was waiting just outside. Within its black and silvery exterior was Callista. They had a premier to attend, and well, Falconius, as sole evidence that Rebels could be rehabilitated, was one of the guests of honor.

“Sorry I'm late.” He murmured as he got into the car, sliding across the seat until he was able to get his belt across his lap. “Afternoon jog took a little longer than I thought...”

[Callista Sapphire]

Callista was checking her face for the fourth time in the back mirror of the large limousine. The usual nerves that accompanied a premiere were present; she felt the excitment and apprehension in the core of her stomach. Of course, this was not like the old days, where the critics had the ability to slam everything she was, from her acting ability to her looks. There was once a time when she was at the bottom, and the reviewers would always find a way to kick her lower. Once she became the face of the Human League, however, things changed. Most of her films were produced by the HL itself, and were therefor not open to criticism. As for the ones that were not made by the HL, well, people didn't dare risk the chance of upsetting Samick. Callista was a golden idol, not to be tarnished with negative reviews. That set some of her at ease, but knowing people were still allowed to dislike the film made her nervous in itself. She couldn't make them like her, and yet it was all she wanted in the universe. As she smoothed out a slightly bent eyelash, Falconius climbed into the car. Looking at him, she once again felt the weight of what was to be his assimilation.

Thus far, Falconius had not been fighting the change, but rather going through it with a certain sense of apathy that made Callista wonder how she ever got him to do anything, let alone rat on the rebels. It had been a crowning achievement for her, and while she was still reaping the benefits, she found pushing Percival into society was a tougher goal. For example, she had told him that she needed to be at the premiere at a specific time, that he needed to be dressed properly, and he needed to look like he had gotten sleep. He had, in fact, been late, his tie was crooked, and he had a severe case of five o'clock shadow. At least, she thought, he was here. That had to count for something. Chin up.

"Jogged instead of shaving?" she asked, and her face was blank, so she could have meant it any way. "Are you feeling alright?"

She wasn't sure if maybe he just always looked this haggard.

[Percival Falconius]

Situating himself in the seat a bit more he made sure his buttons were even on his shirt and replied, “Yeah, seemed like a pretty logical choice to me.” With a shrug Falconius sat there as if he were 100% ready. “I’m here right?” Looking at that judgmental stare however he suddenly felt a little self consious. “Soooo…you think I should have chose shaving?” His eyes narrowed slightly at the consideration. He was a military man, somethings were just engrained in him. He’d always put his physical well being over his outward appearance. He was fairly certain that every man did that anyway.

Her second question struck him as odd. As he fiddled with the tie to get it straighter he shrugged in reply. “I’m no worse for the wear I guess.” Falconius was a man of few words and fewer emotions. Everyone knew when he wasn’t feeling up to par. She’d never seen him on his game, so she wouldn’t know when he was under the weather. He had been under the weather since he betrayed the rebels. It wasn’t easy giving up information on the people he cared about. On the inside he must have convinced himself that it was the only way he’d survive. That could have been the only way he would have given them up.

“Why?” He asked as he was finally satisfied that the tie was as straight as it could be. It seemed he was perfectly able to hold a conversation. A question was asked of him and he replied, asking a question of his own. Since he was released from the holding room and let back into what would be a natural habitat for men, Percival Falconius did only what was asked of him, nothing more, nor did he go out on his own to seek out anyone that would need help or aid. Only when Sapphire asked him to do anything, did he do so. It was hard to adjust to living in a place when for over a year he was accostomed to living some place else.

[Callista Sapphire]

Resting her perfectly manicured hands on her champagne satin dress, she considered the question. Though she had known Percival for these past weeks, and had perhaps shared the most intense situation two people could experience, she had to acknowledge that she knew very little about him. She did not know how to read him, so she had to ask.

"I just don't know how to tell with you," she said with a shrug of bare shoulders, "How can I tell if you're not doing well if I've never seen you upset?"

Thinking for a moment, she wondered if that was indeed the case.

"Or maybe I've never seen you happy?" she questioned, looking at him dead on. "Are you not happy here, Percival?"

She was trying very hard to help him be comfortable, but there was only so much she could do. After all, if a man wasn't comfortable in the back of a limo on his way to a luxurious gala opening night, she didn't know if there was any hope.

"I don't know what else I can do for you," she said, hoping he would be more helpful than standoffish. "I wish you would tell me how I can help you."

[Percival Falconius]

He considered her question for a moment. The look on his face suggested that the questions she asked seemed odd. After a moment of consideration he said to her, softly, “Do you know how hard it is for me to get anyone to look at me the way you do?” A beat, “Really.” Crossing his arms over his chest he said, “Since being let go…I can’t buy food, I can’t go to the movies…I can’t do anything, unless you’re with me.” He looked out the window as the car moved along, taking them to their premier. “No one trusts me here.” He said followed by a stiff breath throug his nose.

Percival would have said more, but he didn’t know how to convey the fact that he hadn’t been happy since being captured. How did one recover from having their friends killed, betraying the people he loved and still try to fit into a society he didn’t wholly agree with? Happy was a word that was useless to him anymore. The guilt and the self loathing and the torture he felt every day was what kept him company at night. Sometimes he wished he would have died that day.

“You want to know what else you can do for me…” He said between them, “Don’t call me Percival.” He decided to throw her a bone. “My own mother didn’t call me Percival.” Shrugging, “Per, Per-Per, Perry, Falco, Falcon…whatever, just NOT. Percival.” Leveling her with a placid look he added, “Since I spend most of my time with you anyway, that’ll at least make it that much more tolerable.” There that was honest enough right? The Bakuran was tough, and complex, and all of the things that Bakuran Men were stereotyped to be, but at the same time, he was an understanding man. Though he didn’t say it, he was thankful to have someone look out for him the way that Callista had. “That help?”

[Callista Sapphire]

His answer lightened the mood considerably, and now she at least felt they could have a normal conversation. Or, at least, as normal as the two of them had ever known with each other.

"But Percival is such a nice name," she said, tilting her head with a little pout on her lips. "It's so regal, no one's named Percival. It sets you apart, I think."

She might try to stop calling him that, but she wouldn't try too hard.

"And anyway, after tonight, you won't need people to trust you," she assured them, "It won't matter what they think, because you'll be above them, and they'll all know it. You'll be a hero."

Callista herself had dealt with something similar in her dealings with the Human League. People had cast her aside, and now she was on the top of the universe looking down. Just as they had with her, they would now realize their grave mistake with Falconius, and they would be at his mercy.

[Percival Falconius]

Falconius was the ultimate non-believer when it came to believing that he could be a Hero to anyone now. It felt good to know, however that someone felt he could be a hero still. He wasn’t sure how to accept this arrangement. He got up in the morning, did photos and interviews for the Human League News Network and was escorted to each event with Callista Sapphire. Someone must have been playing a cruel joke on him to make him believe that his life could be anything else but this for the rest of it.

As Callista went on about how unique and special his name was as it was, he shook his head, “It sounds stupid.” He joked, “Like I should be three feet tall, three feet wide and wearing glasses and have a stack of books as tall as I would have to be with a name like Percival.” He mused. “Bowties are not as handsome as people say.” He remarked. “Glasses, bowtie, pocket protector. Percival Falconius.” A sly smirk pulled his lips to one side and he said, “That does not a war hero make.”

Convinced that this was all a huge mistake, he couldn’t be persueded to think that after this premier that his life would change at all. It was already the worst it could be. While there wasn’t a confrontation to face in the wake of his betrayal to the Alliance, he would not enjoy anything ‘good’ that could come from this premier. “This is…eh…its gonna sound stupid, but Thanks. You know…” He shrugged, “For being the only friend I have here.” Meeting Valentin Samick face to face did nothing for his mood. The many times he encountered the man in his stay with the League, Per had convinced himself that that man was still the enemy. But because of his ‘kindness’, he was allowed to survive. There was a certain gratitude in the fact that Falconius didn’t turn into a martyr for the cause.

Of course, maybe he would have more friends if he were less difficult. Percival hadn’t even given that notion a second thought. He was awesome. No one else could see it. He. Was. Awesome.

[Callista Sapphire]

Though she only nodded in reply, she felt a warm smile spread across her face at hearing Falconius's gratefulness. It may have been a friendship ordered by Samick, but it was one she appreciated nonetheless. She felt somehow like she could be herself around him, perhaps because they had seen each other in very unflattering lights. There was no reason for them to trust each other, and yet she felt they almost had to. Even if they were different sides, they were still the same coin.

Within moments, they had made it up to the front of the theater. Callista could hear the roar of the crowds outside, and the flash bulbs of large, paparazzi cameras. She both loved and hated this part. She supposed the attention was nice enough, but some of the questions the reporters screamed at her tended to border on rude. Not only that, but even though she knew she was beautiful, there was something uncomfortable about standing in front of hundreds of people to be judged. They always found something wrong with her, no matter how perfect she looked. With one last look in her compact mirror, she looked to Percival.

"Are you ready for your splashy debut, Percival?" she asked.

[Percival Falconius]

Falconius shivered as his first name was once again made public. With a sigh however he knew she couldn't be dissuaded. As his only friend, he knew that she would simply do whatever it was she would do with or without his consent. He supposed he had a bit of respect for it. Rubbing at his chin a sudden wave of self consciousness made the palms of his hands sweat. He wasn't ready enough for being out in causal attire let alone at a black tie affair. Being in the position he was in, being a bit nervous was normal, but to him it felt completely ridiculous.

“Please don't call me that...” He again pleaded as he slid out of the car and put his feet on the pavement, simply waiting for his escort to lead him down the red carpet. Growing up, he recalled seeing a few of these events on the holovid. His mother always talked about who was wearing what and how someone looked whorish in red. He never cared about what it meant, but suddenly he found himself wishing he had paid attention. Practically blinded by flash bulbs and bright lights, Percival stood there outside of the car, wanting to dive back inside.

Leaning down he looked in and said to her, “You look fine, let's go...” There was an arch of his eyebrow and a smirk on his lips. He simply wanted to get this over with.

[Callista Sapphire]

As soon as they left the car, the crowd descended. The only thing keeping the gigantic throng away from the duo was a flimsy velvet roped that struggled against the tide of flashbulbs and notepads. Everyone asked their questions at once, and Callista only heard fragments of them.

"Who are you wearing?"

"You've been called a one trick pony by-"

"-expect you'll get a nomination for-"

"What is the nature of your relationship with-"

"Valentin Samick has referred to you as the face-"

"-that you're doing a propaganda picture next-"

She was trained to simply smile, wave, and continue down the red carpet. And so she smiled, she waved, and she dragged Percival down the crimson ribbon towards the friendly, familiar crowd on the other side of it. There were her friends; there were the elite of the Human League film industry. At the forefront was Genevive van Smark, a face no resident of the HL's galaxy had not seen.

"Callista!" Genevive cooed, and she kissed her star on both cheeks. "You look radiant as always. And this must be the heroic Mr. Falconius!"

Callista might have corrected van Smark on Falconius's title, but few people were brazen enough to do correcting of any sort when it came to her.

"Percival Falconius," Callista affirmed, "And Percival, I'm sure I don't have to introduce you to Genevive van Smark, Valentin Samick's number two officer, and the head of propaganda and film for the Human League."

Genevive extended a hand to Falconius.

[Percival Falconius]

Percival Falconius was a man of many things. Decorum and Calm were not two of them in situations that required anything but his cunning and brash sarcasm. The flash bulbs were blinding, the tidalwave of questions astounding. The roar around them was staggering. He winced as his eyes tried to adjust to the light. It was not unlike sticking the poor man in a room with a strobe light. It was starting to give him a headache.

This Genevive who approached next sent a wave of goosebumps up his arms. Falconius was not surprised by the title. She looked very thin, pale and rigid. Again, twice more he was called 'Percival'. He was starting to think she was doing it on purpose.

The extension of introduction was made to this Van Smark and Percival's gaze leveled out. As her hand extended in greeting to him, he looked at it as if it had been crawling with insects. For the sake of discussion later he reached out and shook the hand firmly. The woman looked a lot like a man anyway so the greeting was only natural. He hoped she hadn't been expecting a kiss.

"Falconius...is fine, Just Falconius..." He corrected, not caring about how brazen he'd have to be to correct this woman in public. "Yes..."He shrugged, "That's me...I'm your hero." There was something flat about the address, a bit of sarcasm lingering therein, but this was his way of being nice.